


Aware

by herbailiwick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2465963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>grantairias prompted: "Sam and Cas, nightmares."</p><p>Cas is curious about dreams and about nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aware

"What kinds of things do you dream about, Sam? Hold still," he adds gently, noting Sam's uncomfortable squirm.

"We can't dream," Hannah explains as she touches Sam's arm yet again, concentrating. Sam makes a small noise of discomfort. "I'm sorry," she says with sincerity.

"'Sokay," he says, and scrunches up his face for a moment, but he says, with a slight grunt, "Sometimes they're good dreams." He takes in a breath. "You know. Gardens. Early morning runs. A...big salad." Cas smiles, and Sam responds with one of his own.

Cas wonders if he dares to ask about the other sorts of dreams. No, he decides. It's okay to leave it there.

"Thanks," Sam says with a little squeak as Hannah finishes.

"I'm sorry," she says again. "I am not a very good healer."

"It's fine," Sam says, taking in a few slow breaths, pushing them out. He calms himself.

Hannah shifts on her feet a little, but nods. "Do you need anything...else?" 

"Do you need anything human?" Cas translates.

"I'll get it. Thanks," Sam says again. He has two good legs, and he's sore, but just sore. He's not in pain like before.

***

Cas isn't supposed to watch people sleep. He's really not. 

But he wonders if Sam is having a dream, so he cracks the door open and peeks through, watching.

It's not a good dream. It's one of the other ones. Dean once alluded to Sam having nightmares all the time and it making Dean uneasy. He can see why.

Sam is whimpering. It would be enough to call a Hand of Mercy over, Cas thinks. He's quiet, but there's something...soul-deep there.

"Oh," Cas says, the sound quiet. A lone light is plugged into the wall. What is it they're called? A night light. Light was God's first gift to the Earth. Cas watches Sam whimper and sees his muscles tighten, his body shiver.

It's not annoying. It's sad. 

Sam was Lucifer's plaything for a very long time, able to feel, to think, to form memories. Cas has had flashbacks, and hallucinations, has had regrets, and memories he'd like to forget. He has been tortured many times.  

That's it; Sam looks tortured. 

Cas once let Sam out of a locked room so he could set Lucifer free. Cas once pulled Sam out of a second cage, but forgot his soul. Cas abandoned Sam to pray to him pointlessly and never find an answer, all because he was ashamed.

Cas broke Sam's wall down, cruelly, because he was making a deal with Crowley, a deal he never kept his end of.

Cas took Sam's pain, but Cas and Dean left Sam afterward, and he was lonely. Guilty. Survivor's guilt; Cas knows what that is now.

Sam's body killed Kevin, and Dean said Sam sees that when he sleeps sometimes.

Now Dean is a demon. Dean is a demon, and before that, he was scary, unpredictable, a threat to everyone. He's still a threat. 

Cas runs away after closing the door very quietly. 

When Sam heads to the kitchen for some coffee, Cas is there.

"I don't think you'd understand," Sam says when he asks. He was careful to make it an open question, a question that gave Sam a chance not to answer, but he still would like to know.

"It's possible," Cas agrees. "I did...imagine scenarios from your life that might create nightmares. There were a lot of them. A lot of them were caused by me." He hesitates. He's never known Sam to get mad without any warning, but Cas has been bad news in the past. Perhaps he's still bad news.

"It was an old dream. A bunch of stuff attacking Dean. And then," Sam poured in a little bit of sugar, "Dean was the bad stuff. It wasn't us as a team anymore. And he was yelling. And then there was more yelling. And he said some stuff I didn't like."

"You were whimpering. Crying, maybe." 

Sam's eyes jerk toward Cas, staring. "I don't just look bad, then. You listened to me."

"Yes," Cas admits.

Sam nods. He's not upset, really. Surprised, yes. Conflicted, yes. Not really upset.

"And you don't understand why Dean just saying stuff would make me...sad. Don't worry about it," Sam explains. He stirs, and stirs some more. He keeps stirring like that'll do something.

Cas is certain all the sugar is incorporated. Sam finally takes out the spoon, sets it down with a clink. He looks at Cas again. He paints over his expression with something much more friendly, but not quite as real. "Some people have nightmares about being late, or about showing up somewhere in their underwear," he shares.

Cas feels bad. Slinks his shoulders a little bit. "I shouldn't have listened to you," he says, believing himself to be agreeing with Sam about that. 

"It's...whatever," Sam says. He shrugs lightly, noticing Cas's body language. 

"Is Dean's opinion sometimes worse than the things you experienced in the Cage?"

There's a flash of surprise on Sam's face, coloring it in its entirety. Sam reaches for the spoon, pulling it a little closer to him across the table. "Yes," he says. There's a beat where he's not sure why he admitted it. 

"I don't understand," Cas confirms. "But I also can't dream."

Somehow, Sam looks a little bit realer. Somehow, Sam seems to accept this as some kind of almost solidarity instead of some kind of judgment of who he is and how he feels.

"Thanks," Sam says. 

"I'm not a very good friend to you," Cas comments. Sam sort of wants to say something, but he can't. There's nothing he can say that will make things better. Cas understands that. "I will try to fix the lack of trust between us. It's particularly important at a time like this."

"With Dean, you mean?" Sam asks. "We'll cure him. I know we will."

Cas offers a slight smile, trying to encourage. He's not even sure what he meant when he said "a time like this". Maybe he meant at a time where they were all each other had. Maybe he meant at a time where Sam would be having nightmares. 

Maybe he meant at a time where he was dying, because he was.

"I didn't used to dream about Dean like this. It was always Dad, when I was growing up," Sam adds. 

"Dean has not always treated you well," Cas agrees. "And I believe it has gotten worse." 

Sam offers an appreciative expression, then finds a cloud of reality resting on his shoulders. He drinks his coffee carefully.

"You deserve to dream about running," Cas agrees also, as if Sam had stated that. "Running to run. And not from anything in particular."

Sam's brow creases. He does, after a number of sips, say, "Thanks," and mean it. 

Cas wonders if his attempts at friendship have hurt like Hannah trying her best to heal or if they've hurt like Lucifer's torture.

"Please talk to me about Dean, when you're ready," Cas says, finding he really wants to understand.

Sam looks so shy, so wary. He nods the nod he uses when he doesn't want the finality of saying "yes" or even "okay". It's more than Cas deserves.

The nod is not an effort Cas will let go to waste.


End file.
